


The Thing About Sherlock

by jonghyundroppedthesoap



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Different reunion, Drabble, Fix-It, Light Angst, M/M, Pre and Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-15 22:21:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17537411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonghyundroppedthesoap/pseuds/jonghyundroppedthesoap
Summary: 'Sherlock was always meant to be there, goddamn it. And now he wasn’t and John was all alone, a shell of the man he used to be.'





	The Thing About Sherlock

The thing about Sherlock was that he was always meant to be there.

Yes, he didn’t talk for days on end and yes, he was often on his own solving cases, but at the end of the day, he was always meant to be there.

Perhaps that was why John found himself taking Sherlock for granted. Rolling his eyes, making jokes. Jokes that one should never direct at their best friend if they had even an ounce of respect. John would be lying if he said he hadn’t seen the hurt in Sherlock’s eyes in those particular moments.

But perhaps the worst thing in assuming Sherlock would always be there, was his hesitation. Acquiring a bountiful of girlfriends, dating casually, but never growing the balls to confess his love for that genius man because it could wait.

But it couldn’t wait. Not when Sherlock was lying on the pavement, face matted with blood, pulseless. Blue eyes staring but never again seeing. Never to look at John again. Never to reciprocate another emotion.

“He’s my friend,” John had choked out.

A friend he had taken for granted. A friend he had called a machine. A friend he loved with every inch of his being.

Sherlock was always meant to be there, goddamn it. And now he wasn’t and John was all alone, a shell of the man he used to be.

And so when two years pass, and Sherlock shows up at the restaurant jovially announcing, ‘not dead’, John doesn’t lash out. He doesn’t take Sherlock for granted, he doesn’t roll his eyes and he doesn’t make jokes.

He doesn’t hesitate.

Mary is left awkwardly hovering as John dives towards Sherlock, arms wrapping fiercely around his shoulders and allowing the tears to accumulate in the crook of Sherlock’s neck.

Sherlock looks bashful, confused. But soon enough his arms are around John and he’s whispering quietly. “I’m sorry, John. I’m so sorry.”

“I know.”

Yes, Sherlock was always meant to be there and yes, in this apparent moment he was. But John had learned from his mistakes. And he was not going to waste another moment.

His hand moves to cup the back of Sherlock’s neck. “You lunatic,” he mumbles with a lingering fondness. “You utter prick.”

“John?”

John smiles, pulling Sherlock down so that he can feel his breath against his lips.

“I love you.”


End file.
